


Do Not Mix With Drugs Or Alcohol

by TheManyFacesofJester



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 23:43:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5947753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheManyFacesofJester/pseuds/TheManyFacesofJester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben just can't shake his drug addiction, despite all his brother, Sam, has done to help him. With Sam leaving for work, and Ben trying to quit again after his latest relapse, a potential solution is discovered through Sam's friend Caleb Brewster, who is working as a Sober Companion after getting over his own alcohol addiction. While Ben expects Caleb to be dry, serious, and intolerable he instead finds his new living companion a joy to be around. Caleb is everything Ben wants to be as a recovered addict: Friendly, entertaining and completely over his own addiction. It doesn't help that Caleb also has a winning smile and charming personality that Ben becomes more and more attracted to every day they spend together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Hello friends! So, I broke down and started writing this instead of my essay for Early World Civilizations and I have no regrets. Thank you to everyone who sent me a message telling me to write this because 1) You are so nice and 2) I love you a lot.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you really like this, and I'll try to update it as soon as I can! Enjoy!

Sam had always known. But then Sam knew everything, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise when Ben had gotten home his sophomore year to find the medicine cabinet empty and every pill, needle and drug he had stashed under his mattress missing. Ben had wished, then, that Sam would just leave it like that. He would take away anything Ben might be using and play pretend like he didn’t know.

That was not how Sam operated.

After scouring his room to find any traces of illegal substances Ben had emerged into the living room to find Sam waiting on the couch for him. He wasn’t angry, or upset, or even disappointed; he was concerned and Ben loved him for that. Sam talked and Ben cried, then Ben talked and Sam cried and the two of them pieced together what had gone wrong and how they were going to fix it. It was never expected that Ben would stop right away, but that gradually and over time he would get clean again. Sam bought a notebook for Ben to write down everything. He wrote down what he took, who he bought it from, and how much he had taken, just so Sam would know. Anything Sam found inside the house would be gotten rid of immediately, but outside the house he had no control over Ben’s movements. While that scared him, Sam trusted his brother to make at least decent choices.

This worked for a while. After High School, Ben got into Yale and Sam finally decided to join the military. Ben then made it his personal mission to get completely clean, for school and for his brother, who would no longer be seeing him every day and would be forced to worry endlessly. Ben could clearly remember his brother’s joy when he found weeks’ worth of empty pages in the notebook.

It was over.

But it was difficult. Yale was challenging and every so often Ben would feel a pull on his body to take something, just one more time, to help with the stress. It got easier when he met Nathan Hale. Ben told him about the issue and Nate came up with a million and one ways to stop thinking about it. He made deserts with pop-rocks to add a kick to Ben’s diet; he got him hooked on learning Latin and History; he made Ben suck on ice to relieve stress and taught him to kick box to get rid of his extra energy. Ben graduated Yale without touching a single needle or pill besides a Flu Shot and Aspirin.

Ben and Nathan bought a small apartment to share in New Haven; meanwhile Sam finished his training and bought an apartment in Boston while he waited to be deployed. Everything was exactly the way it should have been.

And then Nate died. It was an accident, just ‘one of those things’ and suddenly everything came crashing down around Ben. Nate was gone and Sam was in Boston and everything hurt and feeling numb felt particularly good so the notebook that hadn’t been touched in 5 years began to fill again. But Sam knew everything. Sam knew that Ben couldn’t afford his apartment without Nate, and money goes faster when it’s being spent on drugs. Sam knew that Ben hadn’t called in the 6 weeks since Nathan’s death and that never meant anything good. Sam knew he was starting from square one again so he showed up at Ben’s door and dragged him, without protest, to Boston with him.

The following weeks were harder than the first time around. Ben was sick all the time, from grief or new drugs, and Sam couldn’t help him the same way as before. ‘It gets worse before it gets better’, he’d say over and over again, to himself or to Ben, and eventually Ben started to come back around, at least a little.

All of this would be would explain why Ben Tallmadge was lying face down on his brother’s couch, adamantly ignoring the plate of hot food his brother had placed on the coffee table next to him.

“It’ll get cold if you don’t eat it, and then you won’t want it,” Sam said as he sat down by Ben’s feet on the couch. Sam was joking, of course, knowing full well that Ben didn’t want to eat it anyway, regardless of how warm it was. Ben lifted his feet to make room for Sam before flopping them down again on his brother’s lap. Digging his heels into his Sam’s legs, Ben managed to flip himself over so he was facing the ceiling.

“Ow! Ben!” Sam cried out, gently whacking his newspaper across Ben’s toes. Ben smiled and Sam laughed. A victory for both of them.

“What are we doing today?” Ben asked, raising himself up enough to remove the tie holding his long brown hair in place so he could redo it.

“Whatever you want.” Typical Sam response. It was a lie, of sorts, too. Sam knew exactly what they were doing today: As much as they could do in one day. Sam had this theory that if he kept Ben busy with loads of activities than he wouldn’t have any time to do anything else. As far as the past month had gone, this plan seemed to work. As far as the notebook said, Ben hadn’t taken anything in almost exactly 4 weeks. ‘1 month will be a victory,’ Sam kept saying. ‘It gets easier after the first month,’ he reminded Ben.

Ben turned his head from the ceiling to the window in front of the couch, the one to the direct right of the television. Early morning sunlight was creeping into the second-story apartment. It was late spring and the weather had gotten increasingly nice over the past few weeks.

“Do you want to go to the Public Garden,” Ben suggested. “It’s nice enough out.”

“I like that. I haven’t been in a while, funny enough. Wanna drive or take the MBTA?”

“We could walk.”

“Even better!” Sam threw his paper down on the table and stood up to get ready. He was just slightly taller than Ben, and only 2 years older, but he looked more grown up than Ben ever could. His hair was shaved military-style and he walked like he owned the earth. He could be wearing sweatpants and workout shirt and still ace any job interview he wanted. Instead he was playing babysitter to his 22 year old brother. Ben, on the other hand, dressed as nice as possible at all times and still looked like a boy. Maybe it was the hair?

Ben struggled to climb up from his spot on the couch, now passively ignoring the food next to him as the unpleasant smell of cold bacon began to fill the room. He was still fully dressed in a white dress shirt and dark blue jeans, but he had slept in those clothes and decided an effort should be made to at least give the allusion that he was clean. He meant it in both senses.

Ben and Sam maneuvered around each other, Sam grabbing their Charlie Cards just in case they got sick of walking while his brother searched for a clean shirt to wear. Pants were easy to find, mostly because pants never got dirty, and other clothing necessitates tended to exist in bulk, but shirts were another matter.

“Have you done any laundry recently?” Ben called out to Sam from the living room closet. Ben didn’t have his own room to put his things in, so his clothes tended to get put away in different places so they didn’t pile up in one spot. “If so, where would you have put it?”

Same laughed and poked his head out of the bedroom. “What do you need?”

“Just a shirt!” He called out, fishing through a box of clothes underneath the rack of jackets.

“There might be some in your suitcase. I’ll check.” Sam called as Ben stopped breathing. He felt a heat seer through his legs and his arms got heavy because Ben had been counting on Sam not checking his suitcase. He couldn’t think of an excuse for Sam to leave it alone fast enough to stop him and suddenly there was silence from both rooms. Sam did not reappear at the doorway for several minutes, in fact, he didn’t appear at all. He seemed stuck in the room with the suitcase and the bottle of OxyContin that he must have found inside it.

For a moment, Ben considered running. Away, into town, anywhere to avoid whatever was going to happen next. But he thought better of it. Instead he found himself slowly walking into the bedroom. He had expected his brother to be standing at the door with an empty bottle, having already flushed its contents away and ready for a long talk with Ben, but Sam wasn’t at the door and he didn’t look in the mood for any kind of conversation. Ben found him sitting on the edge of his bed, the still full bottle on the next to him as he flipped through the pages on their notebook.

“You lied to me.” It could have been a knife going through Ben. He might have preferred it. “This whole time, you were lying to me.” It took almost a minute for Ben to find his voice. Sam had never been disappointed in Ben before.

“That’s not what happened.”

“Then what did? I don’t understand, Ben, the agreement is that you write what you take in the book! I don’t care if you are still doing it, I can work with that, but I have to know!”

“It was one, Sam. I took one, maybe 2 weeks ago, and that was it.”

“So, you don’t tell me if you only take one of something?”

“No, Sam, that’s not it! I always tell you, but just this one time I didn’t. I was just going to take one and stop!”

“Then why did you keep the rest of the bottle?” Ben didn’t have an answer for that. That is to say, he _did_ have an answer, but it wasn’t one that needed saying, so he said instead:

“I just wanted you to think I was doing better, Sam. I just can’t shake it this time. But I’m trying harder now. Two weeks clean. That’s still good, isn’t it? Sam, I’m sorry, but it won’t happen again, I promise you. I’ll do better.”

“I’m getting deployed, Ben.”

“What?”

“I leave next week. I’ll be on a Navy boat near Iran for 6 months. I kept meaning to tell you but I never found a good time.” Ben processed this information very slowly. Sam was leaving and Ben would be by himself the whole time he was gone. “I thought you would be clean by the time I left so it wouldn’t matter, but you’re not, Ben. I know, I know, you’re trying, but I can’t leave you here by yourself.”

“I’ll be fine, Sam,” Ben said. “I don’t know what you’re suggesting.” Sam finally met eyes with his brother. Whatever he was going to recommend was not something Ben was going to enjoy.

“You want me in rehab?”

“I don’t _want_ you anywhere, Ben, but I don’t have any other options,” Sam almost whispered. Even when he was upset he was thinking of Ben first.

“Because of one pill? One pill from two weeks ago?”

“Is that really all it was?” That surprised him.

“You don’t believe me?”

“You’ve never lied to me before about this, and I’m sorry, but I can’t help but think there’s another reason you didn’t tell me about this bottle.”

“I didn’t lie!” Ben shouted much louder than he needed to. “I just didn’t write it down, that’s all! I just wanted to have one thing without you knowing! Why are you making this into something bigger than it is?”

“Because I want you to get better,” Sam said, as soft as ever. “Because I love you and I will not come back to have someone tell me you overdosed while I was gone. I’m can’t do that Ben.”

“You won’t.”

“Can you promise me that?” Sam was serious and Ben, for the first time, understood why Sam never yelled at him and why he had to write down everything he took and why that one pill mattered. It was about keeping him alive.

“No,” he said, defeated. “But there has to be something else we can do. You have friends – Why can’t one of them just stay with me?”

Sam seemed to mull over the idea before having some kind of epiphany.

“Do you know what, that could work. Do you remember my friend Caleb?” Sam put down the book and reached for his cell phone.

“The one with the drinking problem that I talked with on the phone once?”

“Yes, I think I could get him to stay with you.”

“You want an alcoholic to watch a junkie?”

“He _was_ an alcoholic. He works as a sober companion for the Spaulding Rehabilitation Hospital now.” Sam seemed to be intensely searching for his number on his phone, in part, perhaps, to avoid looking at Ben. His face lit up, which seemed to suggest success and he walked out of the room to make the call, leaving Ben by himself.

Ben wished he’d just left the house in his dirty clothes. He wished they had already left to get to the Public Garden and that Ben hadn’t taken any pills and that Sam wasn’t leaving and that everything could stay exactly the way it was. Of course that couldn’t happen because nothing ever seemed to work out the way Ben wanted it to. But then if he had it his way he would be in his apartment with Nate and he would call Sam every night and he would never need to do drugs ever again.

Ben lay down on Sam’s bed and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of his brother’s voice going from loud to soft intermittently, likely explaining all of Ben’s various addictions and problems to his friend. In all, though, he sounded sad, and that was the most excruciating part of this.

“He’ll be here the morning before I leave,” Sam said when he came back into the room. When Ben didn’t answer he got closer and spoke softer. “Hey, maybe this will be a good thing, you and I having some time apart. Maybe Caleb is exactly what you need to get better. That’s all I want, Ben.”

“Ok.” Ben agreed. Ben had decided, in these few seconds, that he would be clean when Sam got back. 100 percent clean and Sam would never have to worry again.

He could do that for him.


	2. Chapter 2

The next week was strained. Sam watched Ben with a careful eye and when they left the house he never left his brother’s side. Ben’s withdrawal symptoms didn’t improve much, and he still wasn’t eating as much as he should. The week came and went and Ben was making an effort to repair whatever he had broken between himself and Sam but wounds heal and scars don’t and Ben was starting to feel he was facing the latter. He couldn’t stand feeling like a disappointment to the one person whose opinion he cared about most.

The morning of Sam’s departure was worse. Ben had never meet the person he was about the spend 6 months with, save one short phone call when Sam told him to hold the phone while he looked up something, and he wasn’t entirely sure what this Caleb would be like. Sam was always soft, and caring, but a sober companion sounded like someone patronizing and strict. He felt like he was waiting to spend half a year with one of his teachers from Yale.

“He just texted me. He’ll be here any second now,” Sam said as he finished getting dressed. He looked so grown up in his dominant blue uniform and Ben felt very small beside him. There was a buzz and Sam ran to tap the intercom.

“Caleb?”

“Yeah, it’s me. What room you in?”

“226. We’re the door right at the top of the stair case.”

“Shit spot for a room. You get a discount on it?”

“I wish. Wait ‘til you here a click, then wait a second, then pull the door open. If you pull too soon it’s gonna lock again. I’ll stay on the line until you get in.”

“Duly noted,” the man on the other end said in a voice that sounded always like a laugh. There was silence and then thudding as someone came stomping up the stairs. A pause, perhaps to recompose himself, then a knock. Sam swung the door open and greeted his friend warmly with a brief hug.

“Sammy! It’s been a while.” Sammy? Ben laughed, just a little, and Sam shot him a look. He expected a look of mock warning, but instead it was surprise. Neither of them could remember the last time Ben had laughed.

“And you’re Ben? I’m Caleb. I don’t know think we ever met.” Caleb said as he walked out from behind Sam and in through the doorway. He did not look anything like Ben had anticipated. He had expected someone like him, someone desperately trying to look clean. He expected a dress shirt, slacks and a face shaved so close that the razor burn would be visible. Ben did not expect untamed hair, a wildly untrimmed beard, and loose fitting clothes that suited him remarkably well. He held out his hand for Ben to shake as he approached.

“We spoke on the phone once. You told me I sounded like a 40-year-old.”

“Shit, did I? Sounds like me, but I can’t remember that conversation. You do sound older than you look, though, so I wasn’t wrong.” Caleb clapped Ben hard on the shoulder, eliciting a confused wince, before turning back to face Sam. “So, who’s giving me a tour then?”

Sam nodded for Ben to show him around while he finished getting ready. Ben directed Caleb towards the bedroom and led the way towards it. He explained that the sheets had been washed and that the bathroom connected to the bedroom was his personal one. The tour was analytical in every sense, Ben going over the absolute facts of every room and nothing more. He then took him back out into the living room, from which the kitchen area was openly attached, as Caleb would have noticed to his direct right when he entered. There was one closet and a storeroom on the other side of the apartment and that was then end of their tour. Ben felt the whole time that he had to prove himself to Caleb. He had to show that he was rational and intelligent and in control of himself. Ben felt, almost unbearably, that he wanted Caleb to like him.

“When are you headed out, Sammy?”

“My taxi is coming at 12.”

“What, Ben can’t drop you off?” Caleb said his name like it was one of a close friend’s, like he was used to saying the word.

“Ben doesn’t drive,” Sam replied “and it’s easier to say good-bye here, I think. Somewhere personal.” That’s what Sam had said, and he was surely telling the truth, but Ben wondered if Sam thought he was an embarrassment.

“You can ride a horse, but you can’t drive?” Caleb actually sounded shocked.

“How do you know I can ride a horse?”

“Sam told me. He talks about you a lot. It’s almost irritating.” As he said this Caleb began the process of making himself a sandwich, opening every draw and cupboard until he found everything he was looking for. Ben watched Caleb as him and Sam began a playful conversation about his brother’s irritating qualities. The only word that came to mind when trying to describe Caleb was ‘charming’. He smiled too much and did whatever he wanted and when he spoke to you he always sounded like the two of you were in on some inside joke that no one else knew. Ben felt like his whole presence was warm.

“Want one?” Caleb asked Ben, stuffing a whole piece of bread into his mouth.

“No, thank you.” Caleb shrugged at his response and took another piece of bread out of the bag.

An hour had come and gone before anyone had realized it and Sam’s cab arrived exactly on time. Sam walked to the door and Ben followed him.

“Caleb, wanna give us a minute?” Sam asked. Caleb nodded and wandered off to the bedroom, apparently unpacking his things. Ben’s eyes followed Caleb until he disappeared before turning to look at his brother. Sam raised his eyebrows in suspense.

“I like him,” Ben said, and he watched as a weight seemed to lift off of Sam.

“God, I’m so glad.” He replied, clasping his brother in a tight hug. “I was so worried you were going to hate this.” Ben pressed his face into Sam’s shoulder and held himself there for a short while.

“I’m going to miss you. A lot,” Ben mumbled before he pulled away. “But when you get back I’m going to be clean – totally clean. I promise.” Sam smiled fondly. He believed him.

“Then I can’t wait to get back.” Then Sam kissed his brother on the forehead, a stretch, but he always did it anyway, and walked out the door, waving his good-bye. Ben stared down the staircase for quite a while after his brother had left, listening for the building door slamming shut and the taxi driving away. 6 months to go.

Caleb, meanwhile, meandered back into the room.

“You alright?” He asked. Ben nodded and wandered back to the couch. He flopped down on the cushions and lay there until he felt someone sit down next to him and hit the TV on.

“Who the hell was watching “The Men Who Built America?”

“I was,” Ben answered, though he didn’t expect Caleb would care very much as he had begun to thrum through channel after channel at rapid speed. Caleb scoffed at the answer. “I happen to like history.”

“So do I, just in more enjoyable ways. You ever watch Drunk History?”

“That’s not actual history though.”

“It’s close enough for me,” Caleb said, finally settling on a channel, though he kept the remote in his hand in case, God forbid, a commercial came on. “Didn’t I read once that history isn’t what actually happened, but just what we know about what happened? So, technically, Drunk History could be as close, if not closer, to the truth than your fancy documentaries!”

“Are you citing your high school history textbooks in order to validate Drunk History?” Caleb laughed and tossed his head to look at Ben, who had folded his legs against his chest to avoid them being crushed by Caleb.

“Your brother didn’t tell me you were funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.”

“That’s the point.” Ben didn’t understand, and he wasn’t going to bother trying, so he remained in a ball on the couch in silence watching as Caleb stumbled upon a station that seemed to only show old episodes of Looney Tunes.

“Is this it?” Ben asked, suddenly, as the Looney Tunes theme rolled out for another cartoon.

“What, for the episode? It’d be a shame Elmer Fudd actually caught Bugs, don’t you think?”

“That’s not- That’s not what I meant,” Ben said, exasperated. “I mean, with us. Is this how it usually works?” Caleb lowered the volume slightly and turned to face Ben.

“Basically, yes,” he agreed. “You’re almost clean, but not quite there yet, so I’m just here to make sure you don’t relapse.”

“But what do you do?” Ben asked, continuing to pry.

“Well, I’ll have to help you get over a lot of problems that your brother wants gone.”

“Like what?” Ben was suddenly offended by this accusation.

“Calm down, Tallboy.” Caleb said. “You need to start eating regularly again, for one. You also need get over your withdrawal symptoms. He said you stopped vomiting, which is good, but you still shake when you sleep and get headaches too easy. Those aren’t too bad though. Should be pretty easy to work through that.” He said it all so matter-of-fact. He talked about it like it was manageable and easy to just stop. That irritated Ben more than it should have, mostly because he knew Caleb had already probably been through all of this and that it was probably that easy for him. He was a recovered addict too. Ben huffed and turned himself back to watching the TV, this time stretching his legs so they shoved Caleb against the side of the couch

“Irritability can get thrown onto the list too, I can see,” Caleb muttered, amused, under his breath. Ben kicked him slightly, but smiled anyway. If Caleb could do it, if he could get better, why couldn’t he?

They spent the rest of the day on the couch. Ben didn’t feel like moving and Caleb didn’t make him. Caleb seemed to like comedies and cartoons better than history; though he did jokingly put on an episode of Liberty Kids saying he was ‘combining their interests.’ Every so often, early in the afternoon, Ben would almost ask where Sam was, or begin to call to him before stopping. He wasn’t used to being here without him. He felt very young each time he did that, and tried to get over that habit as soon as possible.

Around 6 Caleb got up to make something to eat.

“What have you got for me…” Caleb hummed as he opened the fridge, not really asking but just speaking for the sake of speaking. Ben shuffled himself up so he could peer over the top of the couch at Caleb. He seemed to have found milk, butter, and a box of Mac and Cheese.

“Do you like - oh, hello,” Caleb started to shout, but stopped when he found Ben already looking at him. Ben immediately flopped back down onto the couch, not sure why he was watching Caleb to begin with, or why he felt embarrassed that he had been caught. “Right then. So, do you eat Mac and Cheese?”

“I’m not hungry, but thanks.”

“You’re gonna miss out. I’m a shit chef but I make incredibly good Mac and Cheese.”

“Not much too it, though, is there?” Caleb laughed, and Ben remembered that Caleb thought he was funny. He felt warm again.

“Well, I could burn it, or undercook it, or even serve it raw. Lots of ways to mess up. It’s easy to look at simple successes and call them normal, but if you can fail at it, it counts as a success when it’s done right.”

“I like that.” Ben muttered, shifting positions slightly on the couch. A good 20 minutes past before the beeper on the stove went off and dinner was ready.

“You’re food’s here, whenever you’re ready,” Caleb called out, his mouth apparently already stuffed with the pasta.

“I said I wasn’t hungry,” Ben called back as he propped himself up from the couch.

“Yeah, well, I decided not to listen to that. Bowl’s here, spoon’s here, food’s here, so, you need to be too,” Caleb said. “You can at least come and keep me company. How’s that, Mr. Too-Good-For-Kraft.”

“It’s generic brand, we don’t buy Kraft,” Ben said as he climbed off the couch. “And no one eats Mac and Cheese with a spoon.”

“I do.”

“Sorry. No one _but Caleb_ eats Mac and Cheese with a spoon.”

“You keep rolling your eyes like that and they might freeze up there.”

“I don’t roll my eyes; I look to the heavens for guidance.” Caleb laughed and this time Ben joined him. Ben sat down in the spot next to Caleb, who had claimed the head of the table, and ignored the food in front of him. Finally Caleb put down his spoon and said:

“You have to eat something, Ben.”

“How did you and Sam meet?” Ben asked, changing the subject.

“I know what you’re doing, and I’m not letting the food thing go, but I also love to talk, so: We met each other Senior Year of high school. We ended up having almost all our classes together than year and that makes you friends by default. We kind of drifted apart over the years, but we still call each other every so often.”

“Did you drink in high school?” Ben knew this might be touchy, or personal, but if Caleb got to know everything about his addiction he felt he had the right to know about Caleb’s. Caleb, however, didn’t seem to mind the question, or even note how intrusive it might have been.

“Yeah. A lot then and even more later,” he answered. “I thought I was hot shit because I could bring Vodka to every party. I mean, I was, which was sort of part of the problem, I guess.”

“Did you know then?” Ben asked with caution. “That you had a problem. Or did someone have to tell you?” Caleb continued shoveling food into his mouth as he talked.

“I didn’t know then, but people did try to tell me. I got told by a few friends ‘hey, you drink a lot’ but I just thought ‘I drink as much as everyone else does at the parties. I’m not drinking any more than everyone else.’ Really didn’t factor in that I went to parties every night and everybody else went out maybe once a week. I never even knew I had a problem until I tried to stop.”

“Why did you stop?”

“My uncle got sick. Well, sicker. He’s got palsy, and it got real bad a while back. I had to take care of him and I couldn’t go out anymore and I didn’t understand why I was getting so sick. I figured it out, eventually, got some help. I made it work.”

“How’s your uncle?” Caleb seemed, for the first time since he had met Ben, genuinely taken aback. That clearly wasn’t the question he was anticipating.

“He passed away. Just got worse and worse and decided he was done with getting worse and just up and left.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. It wasn’t really unexpected.”

“Did you ever have a relapse?” Ben asked. He wanted Caleb, cruel as it was, to say yes. He wanted to know that what happened to him didn’t make him a total failure.

“No. I guess I thought about it sometimes, but I really don’t miss all the drinking. Made for a lot of headaches,” Caleb said. He had finished his meal and was apparently waiting for Ben to do something with his. Ben didn’t do anything but stare at it. Caleb, apparently, picked up on the non-verbal cue.

“When did you start doing drugs?” Ben pulled his eyes up to look at Caleb.

“Didn’t Sam tell you all of this?”

“He mentioned a little bit. I want to hear you tell me though, so I know for sure.” Caleb never said it like it was an interrogation, or like he was demanding an answer. He said like they were friends; like it was a perfectly normal thing to ask and an easy thing to say.

“Erm, the end of freshman year. My mom died and I thought it would make things better. It didn’t.” The story was always longer when Ben went over it in his head. He added details and justifications, but in the end, that was all there was to tell. Caleb processed that for a moment.

“When did _you_ know you had a problem?”

“I always knew it was the wrong thing to do,” Ben told him, casually pushing at the food in front of him with his spoon. “Drugs aren’t like alcohol. If you start doing them, then you already have a problem.”

“And Sam made you stop.”

“No. Sam let me keep doing it, but he monitored it. Made sure I wasn’t going to get myself killed. He made me want to stop, I suppose. For him. Did you two stop talking because he knew you were an alcoholic?”

“No. We stopped talking because he was looking after you.” Ben could have hated him for saying that, but he knew he was right. Sam dedicated a lot of time to getting him clean the first time, and even more the second. Still, it irked Ben for Caleb to say it like it didn’t matter, so Ben picked up his dishes and dumped them in the sink, and then wander back to the couch.

“I didn’t say it to hurt you, Benny.”

“It’s Ben,” he said, but didn’t respond to anything else Caleb had said. Ben expected Caleb to leave it alone and go away, but he didn’t. He wandered over to Ben and crouched down in front of where he lay on the couch.

“Sam never resented what he did for you. He never minded having to do it, either. He wanted to help you get better, and he did. Don’t get too worked up about what he did for you, just focus on doing better, and getting better, and you’ll have made it up to him.” Caleb finished and Ben sighed, turning away from the ceiling to face the other man, who was currently holding another full bowl of Mac and Cheese.

“Did you pull that out of the sink to eat?”

“Do I look like I’m going to let you waste an entire bowl of food?” He said as he shoveled a bite into his mouth. Ben faux-gagged.

“You’re disgusting, but I like you, so I’ll live with it.” He meant to end at ‘you’re disgusting’, but the other words slipped out, so he flipped over and buried his face in the pillow and pretended he was going to sleep. Caleb chuckled and went back to the kitchen. Ben heard the hum of the microwave and a beep, then re-approaching footsteps.

When Ben opened his eyes no one was there, but a bowl of tomato soup was waiting for him on the coffee table and he smiled. He could work with that.


	3. Chapter 3

On their third day together Ben woke up screaming. He couldn’t remember what he had been dreaming about, not exactly, but it had to do with Nathan. Caleb had run out into the room to wake him up and Ben had immediately reached out his hands and pulled himself into Caleb’s arms. His hands gripped at Caleb’s shirt while he buried his head in the other man’s shoulder, trying to remember how to breathe. Caleb ended up holding Ben for good 30 minutes trying to calm him down. Ben made a list in his mind of all the places he felt safe and put ‘Caleb’s Arms’ at the top. Ben didn’t fall asleep again, and Caleb didn’t leave his side, so they just talked until the sun rose and Caleb forced his charge to swallow down a cup of yoghurt.

At the end of their first week together Ben dreamt he’d taken a hit and woke up with the worst craving for a high. Caleb found him sitting underneath an open freezer, sucking on 4 pieces of ice as he tried to find a way to pull himself back down. Ben couldn’t taste anything the rest of the day, but he didn’t eat anything either so the situation wasn’t an awful one.

Two weeks and one day into their partnership Ben Tallmadge realized he might like Caleb Brewster more than he was supposed to.

At the beginning of their second week together Caleb came to the conclusion that Ben would not be ending his liquid diet anytime soon, so he began experimenting in the kitchen. He made various mixtures of soups and smoothies, oatmeals and milkshakes, yoghurts and puddings and more. Caleb hadn’t been wrong, he was a shit chef, but he did his best to make something that Ben would eat, though Ben suspected that Caleb enjoyed grinding up food in the blender too much to give it up, even if Ben did magically start eating solids again. Ben ate at least half of everything he was given, mostly because it made Caleb smile and Ben liked his companion best when he was smiling at him.

Two and a half weeks in Ben was carrying too many grocery bags and tripped into the sharp corner of the kitchen counter. The impact tore a nasty gash into his right arm that Caleb had rushed to tend to. Ben had to bite his lip while Caleb cleaned and bandaged the wound because his skin felt too sensitive to Caleb’s touch. It was 10 minutes of Caleb’s fingers never leaving Ben’s skin and Caleb seemed so worried but Ben couldn’t feel anything but tingles up and down his spine.

Three weeks in Caleb decided Ben needed to celebrate being 1 month and 1 week clean.

“What would you like to do today?” Caleb asked, handing Ben a purple-looking smoothing. “Whatever you pick, we’ll do. Within reason of course!”

Ben sipped the thick drink slowly and mulled over his options.

“Have you ever been to the Museum of Science?” Ben tried to ask it passively, but he very much wanted to go and he particularly wanted to go with Caleb.

“Nope, so now we have to go! You finish drinking that whole thing, and I’ll even pay!” Caleb was joking, obviously, because of course Ben didn’t have any money. ‘Un-employed recovering addict’ wasn’t exactly a lucrative career. Though, technically, Sam was paying, since Caleb’s expenses with Ben got covered by his brother. Furthermore Caleb knew full well Ben was going to reserve a free pass from the Boston Public Library so it wouldn’t cost them anything anyways.

Still, Ben _did_ actually finish eating all he was given, taking it back to the couch with him as Caleb started to get himself ready to go.

“I’ll just get changed and we can head out!” Caleb called as he walked into the bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. Ben, normally, wouldn’t have noticed or cared that the door was open a little, but as he sat on the far right side of the couch he turned left and noticed that the open part of the door created a direct line of vision to the full length mirror in the bedroom, a mirror which reflected the rest of the room, including Caleb. Except, not quite. From Ben’s view on the couch he could only see a small fraction of the mirror and occasionally a fragment of something moving in it. Despite every warning in his head to ignore this new discovery Ben found himself getting rather bothered while he sat there, catching only small glimpses of Caleb in the mirror. Ben hadn’t realized he had moved positions until he was sitting down on the far left of the couch to get a better view of the mirror. From his current position Ben could now see the entirety of the mirror, through which he could see the entirety of the room, including Caleb. Thankfully for Ben’s conscious and limited jean space, all he managed to see was Caleb finishing putting on a shirt as he walked out of the room.

“Did you change spots?” Caleb had stopped short as he exited the bedroom. Ben felt his face get hot.

“What? Erm, yes, I suppose. Why?”

“You never sit on the left side.”

“I just felt like sitting here.”

“But you never sit there-“

“Are you ready?” Ben was positive he was blushing from embarrassment. He should have just stayed put. Caleb had to spend every waking hour with Ben, the least Ben could do was give him a few moments of privacy. Caleb glanced back into the room, and then back at Ben, who had already stood up to put his glass in the sink.

“Were you…? Never mind,” Caleb said, grabbing his wallet and keys from the coffee table. Caleb was grinning, but Ben wasn’t quite sure he knew why his companion had moved. Ben remained by the kitchen sink for few more seconds, hoping the color in his face had calmed down, then joined Caleb as they walked down the staircase together.

Caleb didn’t know where they were going so Ben acted as his guide while they navigated the city. The two of them had been on outings before, but just for little things like shopping and eating out once in a while at a cheap restaurant, but this felt different. This was an outing together to somewhere special to Ben, and even embarrassing himself couldn’t keep him from being more than a tad excited. The pair of them picked up the free passes from the library first, and then drove to the museum.

They had hardly gotten through the door before Ben began to barrage Caleb with details of what they ‘absolutely needed to see’ and what they ‘definitely had to do’.

“It’s your first time here! We have to prioritize what’s important,” Ben said after Caleb started laughing.

“What’s important meaning: What you like the best?”

“Well, yes. But what I like _is_ the best, Caleb. You’ll see when I show you.”

“If you want this to be about it being my ‘first time here’, why can’t I just pick what I’d like to see and have you show me those.”

“Because you don’t know what you actually want to see.”

“And you do?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, I concede, what are we looking at first.”

“The Gift Shop.” Caleb rolled his eyes.

“We _just_ got here Bennyboy, we have the whole museum to look at, and you want to start with the Gift Shop?”

“Don’t scoff!” Ben reprimanded. “Gift shops are like mini museums, Caleb, pre-museums, even. They are the frontrunners of innovation! Especially this one.” Caleb seemed apprehensive, but Ben had been right. The Gift Shop itself was an excellent introduction to the museum itself. From there Ben led Caleb on a tour through the right wing of the first floor, spending a thorough amount of time in the dinosaur section because Ben noticed that Caleb seemed to be interested in it the most.

On the second floor they made their way to the Science in the Park exhibit.

“If you stand on this platform and hold this spinning bicycle wheel, then the platform will rotate!”

“Oh, really? Demonstrate,” Caleb said, ushering Ben onto the unstable platform. Caleb’s eyes hinted at mischief, but Ben apparently didn’t notice as he stepped up and held out the spinning bicycle wheel in his hands, causing himself to turn, slowly, in the direction his weight was shifted. He was only able to do this for a minute or so before Caleb grabbed his arm and spun him as fast as he could on the turn table. Ben ended up toppling off the platform and into the arms of Caleb, who didn’t seem to mind the invasion of his personal space too much since he was laughing so hard.

The pair took shadow pictures against walls and combined their faces using light and reflectors and spent almost an hour trying to figure out a dozen optical illusions and covered their hands in lightning bolts with the automatic stamp-dispensers and Ben remembered what it was like to be ridiculously happy.

“Now this is my favourite part of the museum,” Caleb heralded as they made it to the food court. “The prices on the other hand-“ he trailed off as he began reading menus. “They have Dippin’ Dots Ice Cream, or is that too solid for your delicate stomach?”

Ben was about to elbow Caleb in the stomach when-

“Well, Tallmadge, imagine seeing you here! Science was never really your strong suit in school-“

“Shit.”

“But you always excelled with medicine!” Ben swiveled around to face the man who was approaching them. Caleb turned as, well, and so did a few uninvolved people, to see who was shouting.

“As far as I remember I did better in science than you did in every subject combined, Bradford.”

“Can you still do that? Remember things, I mean. I heard drugs can do that to you,” Bradford sneered while Caleb’s face dropped from surprise into detest. Bradford had managed to speak loud enough for anyone in line to hear his voice. Ben felt his face get hot as more people started to stare.

“Who are you-” Caleb started but Ben answered with a snap:

“No one. We went to High School together.”

“Well, I went to school. You decided each day whether or not you were too high to attend.” A woman stepped out of line with her son and walked to the other side of the food court. Ben couldn’t blame her.

“You wanna back the fuck off?” Caleb demanded more than asked under his breath as he stepped closer to Bradford.

“Who are you? His boyfriend?”

“Yes,” Ben answered, a little too fast and a smidge too convincingly. Caleb didn’t even blink at the confirmation.

“God, I hope _you_ didn’t drive him here, Ben,” Bradford said, leaning in closer. “I heard about what happened to Nathan Hale.” Ben flung forward so fast Caleb only had time to grab him after the first hit had been struck. Bradford looked as though was going to strike back, but a museum guard came into view to see what the commotion was and Bradford thought better of it.

“You need help, Ben.” He said as he disappeared into the crowd. Meanwhile Caleb was still holding Ben still with his arm wrapped tightly around the other man’s chest. He released Ben once Bradford had disappeared and waved to the guard to let him know that everything was OK.

“I’d’ve gone for the dick instead of the face, personally, but still a good hit,” Caleb whispered. “Though next time, let’s take it outside. I sort of like this place and getting banned would put a damper on our returning.” Ben choked on a laugh and bumped his shoulder into the Caleb’s. He wanted to dwell on the fact that Caleb had said ‘our return’ but the food court was still looking at him so he trotted off towards the farthest table away from where they had been and flopped down in a seat facing the wall.

“Are you-”

“I’m fine. You get something to eat. I’m not really hungry,” Ben said, not upset, not really, just slightly defeated. Caleb took the hint and left Ben alone for a while to order himself a burger and fries. Today had been almost perfect. Just nearly. Ben wouldn’t have minded so much on any other day but he was actually having a good time, for once, and it felt like the universe had conspired to ruin that.

“Sorry,” Ben said when Caleb returned. “For saying ‘Yes’ earlier, when he asked- I just said it. I didn’t mean to put you in uncomfortable situation. I just didn’t want to- It just came out-”

“Whatever you want to call me I’ll go with,” Caleb interrupted. “It’s sort of the rules of our partnership. It’s at your discretion.” That didn’t make Ben feel better. He supposed he should be grateful that Caleb didn’t mind, but he would have liked for Caleb to have been a little flustered. Still, it wasn’t such a bother to Ben to overshadow the sets of eyes that had followed him back to his seat. He wasn’t much for being the center of attention for any reason, especially not this one.

The rest of the day wasn’t totally ruined, though, and Ben even managed to find an excuse for holding Caleb’s hand by feigning fright during the IMAX Dinosaurs Alive! film. At least, Ben told himself he was pretending to be scared, but the dinosaurs had appeared to be frighteningly close on the dome screen.

Caleb bought Ben a crushed penny with a Triceratops named Cliff on it and Ben decided it would never leave his pocket if it could be helped. Caleb still noticed that Ben wasn’t in as high of spirits as he had been earlier and made strives on the ride home to tell Ben every joke he knew, most of which were too vulgar to even be said outdoors. But when they got home and Ben flopped on the couch, Caleb, apparently, decided it was time for a conversation that Ben had been avoiding.

“So who’s Nathan Hale?” Caleb asked as he sat himself down on the couch beside the lying figure of Ben. “You said his name in you sleep last night, you know.” Ben instinctively made himself smaller.

“Ben?”

“Sorry if I woke you,” Ben said, hoping that might clue Caleb in that he did not want to have this conversation.

“You didn’t. You do it a lot, though, so I’m used to it.” Ben gave a surprised hum as a response. Sam never mentioned such a habit and Ben didn’t even know he did it at all, let alone frequently.

“Your brother told me that you and Nathan were close. He said his death caused your relapse.” Ben had expected Caleb to beat around the bush a little regarding that part of this subject. He anticipated Caleb forcing him to come to that conclusion. That was not, evidently, how Caleb operated.

“I guess,” Ben mumbled. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“I just want to know what happened.”

“He was alive, and now he’s dead. There’s not much to it.”

“Ben.”

  
It was a car accident. Is that good enough?”

“Where you there?”

“Yes.”

“Ok. And…?”

“And he died and I stole 6 bottles from the hospital and I broke a lot of promises. Are you satisfied yet?” Ben was trying not to get upset but he had been having a partially decent day, despite Bradford’s reappearance, and Caleb’s determination on this subject was starting to spoil that. Caleb sighed and got up to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Was Nathan your boyfriend?” Caleb asked.

“I’m a virgin,” Ben blurted out confidently.

“Yeah, OK, thanks for sharing. So, was he you boyfriend.” Ben wasn’t sure why he had answered the way he did the first time. It had seemed like the correct response until Ben said it and realized that was not exactly what Caleb was asking.

“No. Erm, I mean, I guess we could’ve tried,” Ben said. “We cared about each other a lot, so I suppose it wouldn’t have been a bad idea. We probably would have tried if we’d ever gotten around to it. I wasn’t in love with him, though, if that’s what you’re asking. Not like that, at least. But we could’ve been, if we’d had the time.” Ben was babbling and he knew it, but him and Nathan had dipped into unfamiliar territory a few times but at the end of the day they were still only friends. Ben wondered, every so often, if that would have changed if Nate was still alive.

Caleb seemed content with this answer and relaxed onto the couch quietly as Ben finished talking.

“I’m just trying to figure you out, that’s all Ben,” he said as he got comfortable sitting. “It’s not about making you talk if you don’t want to. I’m just nosey, I guess.”

“You don’t say.”

“So, are you actually a virgin?”

“You are nosey.”

“You brought it up,” Caleb reminded Ben. “Let me guess, you’re too good for anyone but yourself.”

Ben threw his pillow at Caleb and water splashed down the front of his shirt as he laughed.

“No. I just don’t see the point of it, that’s all,” Ben said.

“The point? I can name twenty reasons why people should have sex and all of them end with orgasm.”

“Why would I be interested in Voluntary Chaffing?” Caleb started laughing so hard he cried.

“You _are_ a virgin, aren’t you! ‘Voluntary Chaffing!’ Someone needs to fuck you, stat,” Caleb cried, still roaring with laughter. Ben’s cheeks flushed as he went to get himself a glass of ice water. That was a conversation he actually wouldn’t mind bringing up with Caleb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My justification for this chapter: 1) Fluff always comes before smut and 2) I LOVE the Boston Museum of Science! It is literally the coolest place ever and Ben and Caleb would totally be a science nerds, like, did you see the pair of them in Sackett's workshop?


	4. Chapter 4

Ben started counting the bottles of water Caleb went through. On average he went through at least 5 a day. Caleb said it was a habit he picked while in recovery. Every time he had thought about having alcohol he had made himself drink a whole bottle of water in one sitting.

“I don’t really think about alcohol anymore, but I still drink a lot of water. Not a bad habit. Why?”

Ben shrugged. The only habits he had picked up in his recovery were apparently negative ones. He laid down about 3 times a day on the couch and never any less. He didn’t eat solids. His mood swings had apparently become one of his featured characteristics. And Caleb drank lots of water. It didn’t feel fair to Ben that Caleb seemed to have become a better person over the course of his recovery while Ben felt like more of a burden. He couldn’t help but feel slightly inadequate compared to Caleb.

Even still, Ben was glad for the progress he had made. The time he had previously spent reflecting on how much he wanted a hit was increasingly being spent on obsessing over Caleb. Ben was becoming more and more aware that his small crush on his sober companion had blossomed into something very real in terms of affectionate feelings. Regardless of how intense those feelings were, however, he eventually came to the conclusion that Caleb could feel however he wanted about Ben and he would be satisfied with that. He could be content with them just being friends if it meant the two of them would be together. The more Ben thought about Caleb the less Ben thought about drugs and for once Ben felt like he was on a path to conquering his addiction. But, of course, nothing ever goes the way Ben Tallmadge wants it to.

At midnight or so, with Caleb in bed and nothing else to do Ben began flipping through channels. He wasn’t sure how he managed to find it, but somehow he came to a station playing “Trainspotting”. Ben had heard of the movie once when he looked up the filmography of Ewan McGregor but he knew enough of the synopsis to know that the plot was surrounded around, and driven by, heroin.

Ben wished it didn’t bother him to see it. Caleb could sit through show after show of people getting totally wasted and not blink but even commercials for medicine made Ben squirm. He should have just changed the channel, but he couldn’t stand the fact that Caleb could handle this exposure and he couldn’t. So, he watched and watched and watched as his right hand began trembling. He wanted all of this to be over. He wanted to do what Caleb could and never think about drugs again, never feel tempted again, never crumble under his own weakness. Why didn’t Caleb ever crack? Why couldn’t he ever, just once, feel the way Ben did? Why was Ben the only failure under this roof?

Ben sat and watched and trembled with want until want transcended to anger. Why _was_ this so easy for Caleb? Then Ben made a poor decision. Caleb was asleep and the house was quiet and Caleb’s wallet was on the coffee table like always so Ben took it and crept out the door. Ben rarely showed any signs of wanting to leave his couch, let alone the apartment, which is why it was incredibly easy for Ben to just leave.

In his defense, Ben was not going out to buy drugs. He wouldn’t even know where to go at this hour in the middle of Boston. Instead he wandered to the closest all-night gas station convenience store and bought a 6-pack of beer. Ben drank and finished the first one outside the store door. He disliked the taste, texture and generally every other aspect of the drink, but he’d paid for 6 and we intended to finish them all.

Ben was past tipsy after the second bottle, which he finished on his slow meander home. By the third bottle Ben was beyond gone. His body had been trained to handle copious amounts of illegal substances but alcohol and he were strangers. Ben had just started his fourth bottle when he arrived at his apparently wide open apartment door. As Ben walked in he saw a fully dressed Caleb about to head out.

“Where in the hell have you been?”

“Out,” Ben mumbled.

“Are you high?” Caleb sounded angrier than Ben had ever heard anyone.

“No! I decided to pick up a new addiction,” Ben said as he held up his bottle. Caleb only got angrier.

“What is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with _you_?” Ben retaliated. “I have beer, and you have none. Take one.” Ben raised his hand to offer Caleb one of his two remaining bottles. Caleb grabbed hold of them both and threw them with a smash into the sink. The noise sobered Ben up a little.

“How do you do it?” Ben whispered. Confusion joined Caleb’s expressions. “How do you just say no?” Caleb sighed heavily and grabbed Ben sternly by the front of his shirt, tugging him back over to the couch.

“Go to sleep. We’ll finish this when you’re sober,” Caleb said as he tried to grab the last bottle from Ben’s hand. Ben, however, let go of the bottle easier than Caleb was expecting and he ended up backing into the couch. When Caleb tried to use Ben to regain his balance he accidentally pulled Ben down with him and onto his lap on the couch.

“Get off, Ben,” Caleb demanded as Ben got comfortable, his thighs straddling Caleb’s and their hips connected. Caleb didn’t sound angry anymore, just exasperated, like he was speaking to a frequently ill-behaved child.

“God I wanted that hit so bad and I just saw it on TV. But you? I offered you alcohol directly and you just turned it down. You didn’t even have to think. Why can’t I get there, Caleb?” Somewhere between the glass shattering and falling onto the couch Ben had begun crying, much to his own dismay, and Caleb wasn’t quite sure what to do besides brush Ben’s now loose hair out of his face.

“It gets easier. Just give it time.”

“You keep saying that and it’s still not true!” Ben said as his forehead bumped Caleb’s. “It’s never going to be over. I promised Sam…”

“Ben, you’ll get there. One day you’re going to be clean enough to say no.”

“Do you wanna know something? I was clean for 5 years, and I promise you if anyone had ever offered me anything I would have taken it. I’m never gonna shake this.”

“Ben, our addictions come from different places,” Caleb said, softly. “Mine comes from simple over-drinking, yours comes from grief. We’re not going to heal the same way. This has always been about Nathan-”

“This isn’t his fault!” Ben shouted much louder than he should have but much quieter than he wanted to. “I just looked away for a second.”

“What?”

“It was a second. I dropped something under my feet; I was trying to make sure it wasn’t under the gas pedals. It was just a second.”

There was a pause. Caleb wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“You were driving.”

Ben nodded.

“You were driving when Nathan died.”

“I just looked down for a second, just to see what I had dropped, and I missed our turn and there was ice on the road and I hit the divider and Nathan wouldn’t answer me.” Ben was actively crying while Caleb tried to put together what Ben was telling him.

“You don’t drive.”

“Not anymore.”

“OK,” Caleb said, not sure what else to do. “But it was an accident, Ben. You skidded on ice, that happens.”

“I wouldn’t have missed the turn if I had been paying attention!”

“You might have smashed a car in front of you if whatever you dropped went under your brake. You had to look.”

“Then I shouldn’t have dropped anything to begin with!” Ben grabbed the bottle from Caleb’s hand and smashed it against the side table. The smell of alcohol was everywhere.

“You need to go to sleep, Ben,” Caleb said.

“I need a hit.”

“Then you can be the one to tell Sam about it when he gets back.” Ben dropped his head into Caleb’s shoulder. The next time Ben opened his eyes it was morning and his head had a dull ache to it. Caleb was already awake and shuffling in the kitchen.

Ben didn’t say anything when he sat up. Caleb would have heard him sit up and he usually threw a glance, but he made a point to avoid Ben this morning. Ben pulled himself up and stumbled to the kitchen area, preparing several different lengthy apologies in his head.

“Caleb, I’m-”

“If anyone finds out that you not only snuck out, but that you snuck out and got smashed under my watch I could lose my job,” he said as he maneuvered about the kitchen, shutting draws and slamming things down just a little too harder than necessary. “I trusted you to be good on your word, and you weren’t.” Ben swallowed and looked at his feet.

“I just thought-”

“Thought that if you sent me into a relapse you would feel better about yourself? Thought that you could make yourself feel superior because you could get drunk one time and not get addicted to alcohol?”

“That’s not-”

“That’s exactly why you did it, don’t lie to me. And not only did you sneak out, not only did you get drunk but you stole from me in order to buy that beer. Do you have any idea how many boundaries you crossed last night?”

“I know, but-”

“I can’t even begin to comprehend why you thought last night was a good idea!”

“I didn’t think! I didn’t think at all! I was watching Trainspotting-“

“Why in the fuck would you watch Trainspotting?”

“I didn’t mean to- Can you just listen!”

“You watched a movie about drugs, wanted a hit and decided it was my fault that you felt that way so you made a plan to punish me! Am I close?” Caleb’s voice didn’t have to be loud to be powerful and Ben was buckling under the pressure.

“Not to punish you, just- It doesn’t matter!”

“No, it doesn’t,” Caleb said, shoving something noisily into the fridge. “Ben, I get it now. I get why this is so difficult, why this is so much harder for you, I understand that now. What I don’t understand is why you don’t get it! You still feel guilty and that guilt is fueling this addiction but it has nothing to do with my recovery and convincing me to relapse isn’t going to make any of that better!”

“That’s not what I want-” Ben felt his voice crack before he heard it.

“You don’t know what you want Ben.” By this time Caleb had given up on whatever food he had been making and stared point blank at Ben. “I tried calling your phone 6 times to find out you had left it here! You were drunk, in Boston, wandering around with no cell phone, do you know how dangerous that is!”

“Yes, yes I do, and I’m-”

“Because if something happened-”

“Can you let me finish! Caleb, I’m sorry!”

“That’s easy to say, harder to show Benny! I don’t want an apology!”

“Then what do you want from me!” Caleb closed the gap between them. Ben had barely finished speaking when Caleb grabbed the back of his head and pulled his mouth to his. Caleb backed Ben up against a wall and Ben instinctively wrapped his legs around the other man's waist. Caleb didn’t waste time with any closed-mouth kisses, but immediately locked lips with Ben as one hand supported Ben’s body by gripping his thigh and the other held the back of his head, pressing the two of them closer still.

They both broke apart when they found their breathing too difficult against each other’s mouth. When Ben opened the eyes he hadn’t remembered shutting he found Caleb staring into them, searching for some kind of confirmation. When Ben didn’t say anything Caleb lowered him to the ground.

“Sorry. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Let’s just go back to arguing,” he said as he stepped away from Ben.

“I had a dream about this,” Ben blurted out, finally finding his voice again. That sparked Caleb’s interest.

“You what?”

“I had a dream about you. I’ve had a few dreams about you. I always dream about you,” Ben said in stuttered speech while his hand found its way to the side of Caleb’s face and his body pressed up against Caleb’s. This was apparently all Caleb needed to push Ben back up against the wall and resume his previous activity.

“You ever dream about this?” Caleb mumbled against Ben’s mouth as his hand moved to the inside of Ben’s thigh. Ben threw his head back to give a sharp moan and Caleb took advantage of the situation to move his mouth to Ben’s neck.

“God, yes.” Ben wasn’t even sure himself if he was answering Caleb’s question or just speaking for the sake of opening his mouth. Their mouths then connected again, and Caleb lowered Ben’s legs to the ground but kept their bodies together as he backed Ben into the bedroom. Ben had not been expecting this. In the event that a relationship between him and Caleb had begun he had thought he would get a chance to Google exactly what he was going to be expected to do. Clearly, there would not be a chance to whip out the Google machine and Ben would have to improvise.

Ben lost his shirt before they got to the room and his jeans were sliding off as he was pushed over the side of the bed. Lying down Ben could feel how rough his breathing was and he dragged his hands through his now loose hair to keep it out of his face, which was starting to sweat.

“God, I’ve waited two months to do this,” Caleb said as he pulled his own shirt off. “You have not been easy to read, Benny.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ben practically whispered, trying to remember how to breathe when Caleb’s hands ran up his thighs to remove his last article of clothing. “I told the whole Museum of Science you were my boyfriend. I don’t think I was playing hard to get-Ah!” Ben cut himself off as Caleb slide the last of Ben’s clothes off. He turned his head to press his face against the unmade sheets of the bed.

“You talk too much, you know that?” Caleb said as his hand felt its way back to Ben’s cock, this time with no clothing barrier to protect it. Ben tried to think of a response, but this kind of touch was foreign to him and all he could see in his head was white light. Caleb teased him for a few moments, then leaned forward to kiss him again as he struggled to get his own pants off, though struggle wasn’t quite the word for it since Caleb seemed perfectly adept to removing his pants while hovering over someone, a skill which sparked both a thrill and jealousy in Ben. At least one of them knew what he was doing.

Caleb finally lowered himself down on top of Ben so they were body to body. Ben kept gasping as they remained like that for several minutes, Caleb touching and exploring every part of Ben’s body that he could get ahold of. Ben was far too shy to try anything of his own accord, but he could feel Caleb’s cock pressed hard against his inner thigh and on impulse his hips thrust up.

“Not quite yet, but I appreciate your enthusiasm,” Caleb whispered nipping at a part of Ben’s ear before removing his body completely from Ben’s. A whine came out of Ben’s mouth at the lack of heat a friction. Caleb pulled himself to the head of the bed, the opposite end the pair of them were positioned on, and grabbed two items. When Caleb returned he manually shifted Ben so his head was directly parallel with the end of the bed.

Ben recognized both items in Caleb’s hand as a condom and lube, both of which he had never had occasion to use before.

“Damn, you look good like this,” Caleb said as he looked Ben up and down. Ben was lying on his back with his knees propped up and his legs open. His face flushed at the attention. Without further comment Caleb spread Ben’s legs apart wider and popped the cap of the lube, pouring liberal amounts onto his own fingers. “You alright down there, Tallboy?” he asked as his hand dipped between Ben’s legs, then paused. Ben nodded and Caleb proceeded, pushing two fingers inside of him.

The feeling was uncomfortable, to say the most. It didn’t hurt, not really, but it certainly didn’t feel exceptionally good. Ben chewed his lip and Caleb pushed and bent his fingers at different angles. Ben felt the heat leaving his body until Caleb’s fingers bent and tapped something and-

“Ah!” There was a yelp from Ben. Suddenly every part of his body felt too sensitive. The sheets, Caleb’s hands, the air, it all felt like too much. Caleb bent down to kiss Ben, if only just to give him something to do with his mouth besides moan. Caleb continued to push in and pull out and tap that same spot, adding another finger before finally deciding Ben had had enough. As his fingers withdrew Ben felt his hips jut up again. The lack of sensation was going to kill him if he didn’t meet with some friction soon.

Caleb re-positioned himself between Ben’s thighs and lifted Ben’s legs slightly higher. There was a pause then Caleb pushed in. Caleb’s cock was not like his fingers, and that was jarring to Ben. Where his fingers had been flexible his cock was solid and hard and couldn’t bend on a whim. Ben lifted his hips and legs higher and gasped louder as Caleb pressed further and further inside of him. Ben couldn’t breathe for a few moments when Caleb finished pushing all the way in. His lips were dry and his face was covered in sweat and Caleb’s forehead was pressed against his own with their mouths touching but not moving and Ben could have come right there if he had thought about it hard enough.

But he didn’t have to as Caleb began to move. He was slow at first, pulling out and pressing in at different angles, just like with his fingers. Ben had forgotten what he was looking for until Caleb found it and Ben’s hips thrust up sharp enough to elicit a groan from Caleb. From there Caleb moved his hands to hold down Ben’s arms at the shoulders and he started to go faster. If a slow speed was torture, the quickened pace was agony. Ben’s legs couldn’t stop trembling and shaking as Caleb held him down and fucked him. Finally Caleb’s lips rejoined Ben’s, but the two didn’t kiss so much as moan into each other’s mouth.

Caleb got faster and faster and the white light inside of Ben’s mind grew brighter and brighter with each thrust. Finally a vibrant heat started at Ben’s hips and traveled all the way to the top of his head and Ben didn’t know what was happening until his back bowed and mouth screamed and his chest was covered in stripes of cum. It took one, two, three more pumps before Caleb shook and crumbled under the impact of his own orgasm. Even with the condom on Ben could feel the pressure of Caleb cumming inside of him and his hips shot up once more from pure sensitivity.

“Sweet Jesus, you get loud in bed.” Caleb mumbled against the flesh of Ben’s neck, which he had pressed himself against at his climax. Ben didn’t have the energy to agree or disagree, so he just remained silent except for his heavy breathing. Caleb waited until he caught his breathe and then gently pulled himself out of Ben before lying down next to him.

“This is much better than arguing,” Ben said, stupidly, as he flipped himself over to lay his arm across Caleb’s chest. Caleb let air out of his nose in a silent laugh and pulled Ben even closer to him.

“Nothing like Voluntary Chaffing, huh,” Caleb added and Ben laughed too. Ben knew he and Caleb would have to have a talk in the morning about what this was and what it meant, but for now Ben was content to lay in bed and be nothing less than happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, here it is, the chapter people will skip to when because they saw an M rating and just wanted to read smut. Bless you all.


	5. Chapter 5

Ben was hoping Caleb would still be in bed with him when he woke up, but he found himself alone instead. The darkness in the room suggested that it was late afternoon. He must have slept through the whole morning. Ben was upside down on the bed still, but this was the first time he had woken up in a bed in a while, and though he wanted to go search for Caleb he stayed a little longer under the comfort of the sheets. It wasn’t until he noticed the thrum of the shower and the faint sound of singing that he realized where Caleb was.

A few minutes later Caleb meandered out of the bathroom with one towel around his waist and one being run through his hair.

“You use two towels?” Ben muttered as he flipped himself over in bed.

“One for my body and one for the beard,” Caleb said as he continued to dry off. “The beard is special.” Ben let out a long ‘oh’ and sighed deeply, his eyes never leaving Caleb.

“Are you watching me?” Caleb asked as he started to throw on clothes. Ben nodded casually and Caleb gave sharp glance back at him. “Like you did before the Museum of Science?”

“What?” Ben felt his cheeks flush from guilt. “I wasn’t-”

“You _were_ watching me!” Caleb called out accusingly. “I knew it!”

“I-No! That’s not what-I didn’t see anything, OK.”

“But you wanted to?”

“Please stop talking.”

“You were spying on me!”

“I was not. I just happened to be able to see you from the couch-”

“Yeah, after you moved into the proper seat!” Caleb seemed to enjoy the teasing while Ben stuffed his face into his pillow. This felt comfortable, the two of them sparing with words.

“Alright, your turn,” Caleb said.

“For what?”

“To get dressed under someone else’s watchful eye,” Caleb told him as sat down comfortably in a chair across the room. “Can’t stay in bed all day. Come on.”

Amidst much whistling from Caleb, Ben eventually managed to get dressed. Caleb left him to his own devices after a while and went to get some food ready. He made oatmeal for Ben and a Hot Pocket for himself, mostly because he didn’t feel like actually cooking anything.

“Is this the part where you and I have a serious discussion?” Ben asked as they sat down to eat.

“If you want it to be,” Caleb said between mouthfuls of food. “What would you like to start with?”

“Well, first of all, I’d like to know if we’re breaking any rules with this.”

“With what?” The Lord was testing him.

“With us, Caleb.”

“And what are we, exactly?”

“That was going to be my next question.”

“Makes a better first question, in my opinion,” Caleb said. Ben sighed and ate a bite of oatmeal. “What do you want us to be?”

“I…” Ben had to think about that for a minute. “I’ve never had a relationship. I don’t know how this usually works. But I want to be yours. That’s all I want to be, for as long as you’ll let me.” Ben was no master of the nuances of Caleb’s emotions, but the smile erupting on his face was certainly a good sign.

“Then we have an agreement,” Caleb said. “And, you are no longer a liar. By all rights, you now told the truth to the Museum of Science and that dick-bag Bradford.”

“Dick-bag? What, is one dick not sufficient?”

“Not for him, and maybe someday, not for you either!” Caleb laughed as finished all his food before Ben was halfway done. Ben felt his face blush again at the comment and tried to re-focus the conversation.

“You never answered my first question,” Ben retaliated. “Are we breaking any rules?”

“Almost all of them. You snuck out, got drunk, and stole my money and instead of doing a drug test I fucked you. In terms of breaking rules, I’d be surprised if we missed one.” Caleb was laughing, but Ben didn’t find it that amusing.

“You just yelled at me this morning about almost costing you your job! Now it’s a joke?”

“Well, this morning I thought you hated me, so-”

“Why would I hate you?”

“Did you not hear the first half of my other sentence?” Caleb asked. “You specifically went out and did something you knew was going to upset me. I thought you’d done it to get rid of me.”

“That’s not- I just felt…inadequate. That’s all. You were right, earlier. It doesn’t have anything to do with you, it’s just easier to act like it does because you’re right there for me to blame.” Ben knew he had shifted the conversation to a mood he didn’t like, but there wasn’t a turning back point now.

“Does your brother know about what actually happened with Nathan?” Caleb asked in that calm voice of his.

“Yes,” Ben answered. “I don’t know how he knew. I might have told him while I was high and I don’t remember. He always knows everything though, so I’m not shocked.”

“Did you ever talk about it?”

“No. We left it alone.”

“That’s not-”

“This was my fault and he respects that I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ben, that’s the problem. That guilt is feeding your addiction. Your problem isn’t that you’re addicted to drugs; you’re just addicted to feeling better. You started doing drugs the first time because of your mother’s death, and the second time because of Nathan’s. There’s a pattern to this, and I know that now. That’s your problem, and that’s your solution. You need to learn to deal with your emotional issues in a healthy way. That’s how we tackle this.”

“We,” Ben repeated.

“We.”

Caleb cleaned up the dishes and the pair made their way to the couch. Ben wanted to sit closer to Caleb, but he wasn’t sure if that would be entirely appropriate, so he sat in his usual spot on the way right of the couch. Caleb, however, had the opposite idea and sat down almost on top of Ben and pulled the other man into his right arm as his left hand flipped through channels like gunfire.

“How do you know you don’t like it if you only spend a second on each station?” Ben asked as he settled into Caleb’s arms.

“Years of training, Bennyboy. I have a gift,” he said as he leaned closer to Ben’s ear. “Well, I have two gifts.” Caleb’s right hand had traveled to Ben’s inner thigh and he shoved his face deeper into Caleb’s shoulder. There was a laugh at Ben’s bashfulness and a kiss that seemed far more interesting to Ben than whatever was on TV.

Ben thought, at the time, how wonderful everything was in those moments, how it was nearly perfect. In four and a half months it would be completely perfect. Sam would be back, and Ben would be clean and he would have Caleb, and Ben might even get a job with that degree of his. Not that he was rushing things, but there on the couch Ben imagined the future. He and Caleb could get their own place, somewhere close by to visit Sam, but far enough away that Sam wouldn’t have to bring any noise complaints to their attention. He loved that idea; the one that had a ‘we’ in it.

“I love you,” Ben mumbled against Caleb’s arm, soft enough that he could have been the only one who heard it. But for once something happened just the way Ben wanted it to.

“I love you more,” Caleb whispered against Ben’s still loose hair before he placed a kiss on the top of his head. Ben considered responding, but instead kept his mouth shut. The statement was a fine one exactly the way it was.

The next few weeks were enchanting. Ben found out, rather quickly, that he was a silly romantic. He used an old gift card Sam had bought on accident once and had flowers sent to the house every day for a week. Ben found out, equally as fast, that Caleb was just as silly as he was. Caleb stuck sticky-notes with love notes and hearts on them around the house while Ben was asleep one night. Ben slowly adjusted to being allowed to touch Caleb whenever he wanted; he could kiss him whenever he felt like it, sit close to him on the couch every time, and hold his hand as often as possible. Ben liked that part best of all. No more knocking-knuckles, just intertwined fingers. The sex took a little longer to adjust to. Not because he didn’t like it, but there was a venerability to sex that frightened Ben just a little, which Caleb seemed to pick up on.

“Are you ace, Ben?”

“Ace?”

“Asexual.” Ben thought about the question. Nathan had asked him the same thing once.

“It’s not that I don’t like sex, I just don’t like certain parts of it.”

“That can count.”

“But I like it, I mean, when it’s happened. And I thought about it sometimes. I just don’t ever have any strong feelings about having it until it’s happened. I don’t think I can explain it very well.”

“OK,” Caleb said. “So, you’re somewhere on the spectrum. That’s fine with me. You just have to tell me if I’m bothering you. I can handle the word ‘no’ if you say it, and you might just turn me on if you start bossing me around in bed by telling me what you like. Just throwing that out there.”

So, Ben told him, and Caleb did seem to like getting orders as much Ben was starting to enjoy giving them. The venerability of the act went away a little, though he still preferred soft kisses on the couch and holding hands to sex. None of this bothered Caleb at all, who seemed to simply enjoy being close to Ben for any reason. Both of them found it difficult being in public spaces with one another because they clamored over one another for attention, bumping arms and clasping hands and they made quite a sight in a grocery store or gas station. Each night was spent with movies and TV shows and each evening was one glorious moment of exceptional happiness.

Then that moment ended.

“Are you making breakfast?” Caleb asked, wandering into the kitchen in his usual unkempt hair-and-t-shirt combination. Ben nodded as he stirred the scrambled eggs in the pan before him. “This is new.”

“I’m a little rusty at it, but I think we should be alright,” Ben said. When he decided the eggs were good enough he put some on a plate for Caleb and, much to the other man’s surprise, some on a plate for himself. Caleb looked like he wanted to bring up the fact that Ben was eating something other than a liquid, but thought better of it, and simply sat down instead.

“It feels weird,” Ben said as he took a bite.

“What does?”

“Chewing.” Caleb let out a laugh so hard he almost choked on his meal.

“That is one area that I am not trained in aiding with. I’m afraid you’re on your own there, Tallboy.”

“Am I ‘Tallboy’ because I’m tall, or because my last name is Tallmadge?”

“Both. It’s a double entendre.”

“Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“No. Do I sound like I do?”

“Did you just quote Clueless?” Caleb would have responded but at that moment the house phone rang. Because both of Caleb and Ben had cell phones the home phone was a rarely used device in the apartment, but once in a while a call would come in from telemarketers or scam calls. Ben sighed in an undignified way and hauled himself over to the counter to pick it up.

“Hello,” he said in an exasperated way into the phone. Caleb wasn’t really listening until he heard a change in Ben’s tone. “Yes, I’m Ben Tallmadge. Um- I’m sorry, who are you…? Yes- Yeah, he’s my brother.” Caleb shot Ben a look but the other man wasn’t paying attention to him. “I don’t understand- No, sir, I don’t understand what you’re telling me… Just- Why is this happening, you’re supposed to be the NAVY, don’t they have a doctor on that ship…? Then get another one, I don’t know what to tell you!” Ben’s right hand had started shaking and he had to switch the phone to his left to keep it steady. “Then just send him home…! If that’s not an option then I don’t know why you bothered to call me!” Ben shouted as he threw the phone against the counter and stormed off into the bedroom. Caleb ran over to grab the phone to see if someone was still on the line, and there was.

Ben could hear Caleb from the other room.

“I’m Caleb Brewster. I’m Ben’s Sober Companion. Can you please tell me what happened…? Are they doing everything they can…? Alright, thank you, and I’m sorry; Ben’s really upset, but this isn’t your fault… Thanks.”

When Caleb walked into the room Ben was curled up on the bed, his body wrapped around one of the pillows.

“They just said he’s sick, Ben.”

“Well, they don’t call your family if you have a fucking cold!” Ben tried to shout, but the words were muffled somewhat by the pillow his face was stuffed into.

“So, it’s a parasite. He can still get better, Ben. But shouting at an officer who is just trying to let you know what is going on isn’t going to make him well again.”

“Right, so this is my fault.”

“Ben, you know that’s not what I said.” Caleb sat down next to Ben and touched his arm tentatively. Sam was sick, on a boat, thousands of miles away and Ben didn’t have any way to contact him at all.

“Sam never gets sick,” Ben said, moving his slightly tear-stained face away from the pillow so his voice could be heard. “I get sick all the time. I catch every cold and virus out there and Sam’s always taken care of me and he’s never gotten sick – not once. This doesn’t make sense.”

“Not everything is supposed to, Ben. Sometimes things just go wrong, for no reason, and there’s nothing we can do about it.” Ben could sense a tension in Caleb’s voice. He flipped over to look Caleb in the eyes.

“Something else is wrong,” Ben said urgently. Caleb took a deep breath and Ben surged up. “Did the officer say something else on the phone? Don’t lie to me, what did he say-” He would have continued but Caleb pressed a hand to Ben’s chest to stop him. There was a pause before Caleb responded.

“I can’t have you relapse again.” Ben went from upset to angry.

“My brother is sick on a ship and you’re worried about me relapsing! Is that really the priority at the moment, Caleb?”

“Ben, I am justifiably worried! You have a history of turning to drugs when things get bad, and I can’t let you do that to yourself. You deserve better, and so does Sam.”

“What, so when he dies he can relish in the knowledge that I was clean!”

“He’s not going to die!”

“Can you promise me that?” Ben felt his words echo his brothers. They were here, in this room, not so very long ago. He thought the world was falling apart that day. Maybe it had.

“No.” Caleb’s words echoed his own. “But you can’t just assume he’s going to die either. He’s sick, but Sam’s strong. I know you’re upset, but we need to figure out how to deal with this without you repeating the past. I promised Sam I’d get you better and I have. I intend to keep it that way, no matter what happens.”

Ben closed his eyes tight. He wanted to tell Caleb that he was wrong. That he was clean for good and Caleb shouldn’t have even thought to worry about it anymore, but his body was almost heaving for a hit and his stomach sank. Caleb was right to be worried and Ben hated himself for it. He hated that everyone always had to worry about him. He hated that his issues overshadowed everything his brother had to deal with. He hated that he felt like history was repeating itself for a third time.

“Everything was going so well,” Ben whimpered as he pulled himself up to wrap his arms around Caleb. “He has to get better. He’s going to get better. He’ll get better for me. He has to.”

Caleb pulled Ben into his arms as tight as he could and the two of them laid down together. Ben wished he could go back to yesterday and play that day over and over again. He wished he could go back to the day before Sam left. He wished he could go back to his sophomore and make better choices. He wished he had his mother, and Nathan, and Sam. But then, it never mattered what Ben wished. Nothing could ever go the way he wanted it to.


	6. Chapter 6

“I killed Nathan Hale.”

Ben and Caleb were lying in bed, in opposite directions, staring at the ceiling. Ben hadn’t felt like doing anything else for the past few days, and he had made the bed his personal hamlet while he waited for more news about Sam. Ben felt Caleb’s feet shuffle softly when he spoke.

“No, you didn’t, Ben,” Caleb said in a tired voice.

“Yes, I did, even if it was an accident. He’s not alive because of me. I killed him.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“For everyone or just for me?” Caleb sat up from the head of the bed to look down at Ben. He looked concerned and Ben did feel bad for him. Caleb loved him and it must be hard to watch him act like this, but Ben couldn’t help it and Caleb knew what he had gotten himself into.

“You didn’t intentionally hurt him. You skidded on ice.”

“Because I looked away from the road.”

“Because neither of you were paying attention and you missed your turn.”

“This isn’t Nathan’s fault!” Ben exclaimed as he looked away from to ceiling to Caleb. “You can’t blame him for this.”

“Yes I can, actually,” Caleb said, remarkably passive. “He could have looked for whatever you dropped. He could have been paying attention to the road.”

“Stop it, Caleb.”

“He could have told you that you were coming up on your turn. He could have-“

“I said stop!” Ben shot up and met Caleb’s eyes.

“If you had died instead of him, I bet he’d be doing the same thing you’re doing, saying the same things I’m saying. That’s because it’s not anyone’s fault. It’s all in your head, Ben. You need to stop with the guilt complex. Nathan is not dead because of you. Sam is not sick because of you. Can you stop blaming yourself for things that aren’t your fault?” Caleb said the last part more aggressively than he meant to but Ben understood why. Ben didn’t reply, but just fell back onto the bed, waiting for the silence to return. Caleb seemed to disagree with this method of coping.

“This isn’t going to go away if you ignore it,” Caleb said.

“What else am I supposed to do then? Where am I supposed to go? How do you _want_ _me_ to be dealing with this?”

“I don’t know. I just want anything else besides this.” Caleb laid back down and Ben felt worse than before. He didn’t want to hurt Caleb, but he just didn’t have the energy not to. Making people feel like shit was Ben’s specialty and he seemed to be excelling at it for the moment. It could be worse though. Ben woke up every morning and went to be bed every evening dreaming about how easy it would be to take something, anything, to make himself feel better. He bargained and reasoned with himself that one pill, just to take the edge off, would be alright. If he just had one hit he could snap himself out of this delirious wave of unpleasant emotions. He would be better for himself, and better for Caleb; he wouldn’t have to worry about Ben anymore because he would start acting normal again, and didn’t Caleb deserve that? This argument was always countered by the memory of the night he snuck out. Caleb was so angry at being betrayed. Caleb wouldn’t thank him if he got high when his back was turned, even if the justification was for both of their emotional well-beings.

Ben couldn’t make up his mind about which way was worse in terms of hurting Caleb so he decided to do as little as possible for the rest of his life while he tried to figure it out. There are no temptations when you are lying still in bed. Well, there are temptations, but no reasonable way to get to them, so Ben could try and convince himself that they weren’t there. The only problem was that Caleb was not content with this solution and Ben couldn’t stop fighting with him. He kept snapping at him and cutting him off and he always regretted it afterwards but when Sam came back everything would return to normal and he could apologize then.

“I love you.” Caleb interrupted Ben’s train of thought. Ben wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“I know,” he said stupidly. Caleb made a sharp ‘hm’ sound, like he was displeased with that answer. Ben tried to think of something else to say, but Caleb didn’t give him a chance.

“I’m gonna eat something,” Caleb said as he rose from the bed. He usually offered for Ben to join him, but he didn’t this time. Ben couldn’t blame him. He knew how he was supposed to respond to Caleb’s first comment, what he was expected to say, but the words had got caught in the back of his throat and wouldn’t come out.

Still, Ben found himself getting off the bed and meandering towards the kitchen. Caleb was eating a piece of cold pizza that had been in the fridge for who knows how long. Ben sat down next to him and grabbed a slice as well. He generally disliked cold pizza, but he was hungry and hoped it would make Caleb feel better for see him eating.

“Why haven’t they called?” Ben asked. “Why haven’t we gotten an update on him?”

“Maybe they’re busy, or maybe there’s nothing to report. I don’t know, Ben!”

“Don’t jump down my throat, I was just asking.”

“Well I don’t have those answers for you.”

“Why are you so touchy all of a sudden? He’s not your brother!” Caleb shook off the comment and stood up to go sit on the couch. Ben waited in his spot at the table for a few moments before following him over. They sat as far from each other on the couch as possible.

“Are you alright?” Ben asked, suddenly, in a quiet voice that wasn’t quite his own. There was a pause of silence as Ben waited for an answer. None came for quite a while and Ben wondered how his brother and Caleb hadn’t strangled him while they waited for him to give an answer when they had asked him.

“I’m losing you, Ben,” he said. “And I can’t fix this.” Ben didn’t understand. He was upset and miserable, but that didn’t have anything to do with Caleb. They were distant, but that would change when Sam came back. They would go back to those perfect moments on the couch. What did Caleb think was happening? Why couldn’t Ben get the words he wanted to tell Caleb out?

Ben had fallen asleep on the couch when he heard a knock on the door. Caleb was still awake, watching a TV at a soft volume. He thought he had imagined the noise, but Caleb seemed to have heard it too. Ben knew they weren’t expecting anyone, and there was no one to come and visit, and whoever was outside that door had gotten access into the building without having to call up first. All of that frightened Ben.

Ben got up and walked as slow as he could. His heart pumped strong but his legs felt weak as he arrived at the door. There was a pause, where Ben reminded himself to breathe, and he pulled open the door.

Before him stood two men Ben didn’t know dressed in military suits. One of them began to say the words ‘I’m very sorry-’

Sam was not coming home.

There was not one word said by either of the officers that Ben comprehended or listened to at all. Caleb walked over to the door at some point and he directed the conversation. Ben didn’t hear him either.

All he heard was his brother’s voice saying ‘I can’t wait to get back,’ over and over and over.

The officers left eventually, but Ben didn’t leave the doorway. He just stood there and watched as the men disappeared down the stairs and out the door and then he stared into the empty hallway.

“Nothing ever goes the way I want it to,” Ben muttered to no one in particular. Caleb had long since gone back to the couch to sit and process what had happened, but he still must have heard him. He had the decency to not answer.

There was a passage of time that Ben couldn’t account for, when he was standing in the doorway, and eventually Caleb decided he had been there long enough and gently tugged him back into the house. Ben shook him off at the touch.

“Just let me be for a while,” he tried to say as respectful as he could but the words came out like ice and hurt to say them. But Caleb didn’t leave him. He sat Ben down on the couch and seated himself beside him.

Then they just sat there. Ben didn’t fall asleep again, and Caleb didn’t either. They just sat there, staring at their own tear-strewn reflections in the black reflection of the now off TV screen.

Halfway through the night Ben pulled himself onto Caleb’s lap. He didn’t start slow or gently, but instead pressed himself as hard as he could against Caleb’s body as he chapped his lips by pressing them so hard against the other man’s.

“Ben,” Caleb mumbled, tired, against Ben’s mouth. “You’re upset. I’m upset. This is a bad idea.”

“Fuck me as hard as you can,” was the response he received. If there was anything Ben wanted to feel right now, it was high. Off drugs, off sex, off anything as long as it meant he didn’t have to think about that boat and his brother and a funeral because if he thought about it for a second longer than he had to he would have to get angry at everyone involved and Ben was tired of feeling angry. He was tired of feeling nothing. He was sick of being clean.

“This won’t make you feel-” Caleb started but Ben cut him off with his mouth and pulled Caleb on top of him. Caleb didn’t argue after that. Maybe he felt it too. Sam was his friend, even if they weren’t too close, and it hurt to lose people anyways.

They didn’t bother taking all their clothes off. Ben stripped only his lower half, and Caleb didn’t even take off his pants fully. It hurt, this time, more than the others, on Ben’s insistence. Ben reached his hands above his head and grabbed the arm of the couch as Caleb pressed into him over and over, each time with a little more force than the last.

Ben wished, when he came, that he could die right then, his last seconds spent in the ecstasy he wasted his life pursuing.

When they were done and sore from the lack of patience this time around, Caleb lay down beside Ben. Caleb fell asleep then, with his arms around Ben, but Ben stayed up and waited for the sun to rise. He didn’t know he had that many tears in his body. He wondered what tomorrow would be like, and the next day, and the next day. He had been relying on Sam coming back. He had been looking forward to it. What was he supposed to do now?

The next few days were unbearable. Caleb was doing the best he could but Ben felt like his veins were filled with lead. He stopped eating again, this time completely, and didn’t leave the couch at all if he could help it. The entire world had stopped, as far as Ben was concerned, and he had no intention of restarting it.

“You have to eat something,” Caleb said, placing a small ration of food in front of Ben.

“I don’t have to do anything.”

“Yes, you do, Ben.” Caleb crouched down so his face was level with Ben’s. “The funeral is at 12. Are you going?”

“Don’t be stupid! Of course I’m going!”

“I’m just asking, Benny.”

“It’s Ben.” Caleb looked unhappy again. Ben hadn’t corrected him in a very long time. There was a line between the two of them, one that he just couldn’t cross, and it was getting wider. Ben remembered what Caleb had said before – ‘I’m losing you’ – and he tried to understand what Caleb was feeling.

At 11 Ben was ready to go. He was dressed as nice as he could be without having taken a shower in several days and waited in the car for Caleb. They didn’t speak on the ride over and Ben was glad for the silence.

The funeral was equally unbearable. Ben stood and cried the whole time, surrounded by people he didn’t know who were all shaking their heads sadly. Some looked like people Sam must have gone to school with, others must have been relatives that Ben didn’t know or care about. He only cared about Sam. Part of him wanted Caleb to hold his hand, but a greater part of him just wanted to be left alone by everyone and everything. He felt hypersensitive; the wind was too much, the people were talking too loud, the air was too thick, his clothes were too tight, everything around him was just pissing him off. Caleb didn’t try to hold Ben’s hand anyway, so he didn’t have to worry about it. When the burial was over there was supposed to be a service with food and conversation at a local building, but Ben immediately went to the car and told Caleb to drive him home. Caleb stayed behind for a short while, taking with a few of the people in attendance, before getting in the car.

“Can you just make some kind of effort? These people are friends and family of Sam. You could say hello.”

“I can get a bus, if you’re not going to drive.”

“Jesus, Ben, I’m just saying-”

“Fine.” With that Ben climbed out of the car and walk briskly away. He didn’t want to talk, or chat, or say hello. He wanted to go home and sulk and pretend nothing bad had ever happened to him or his brother or the rest of the people he cared about who were dead now.

Caleb got out of the car around the same time Ben did to chase him down.

“Ben!” Caleb called as he got closer, eventually catching up enough to grab Ben’s arm and turn him around.

“You’re fired.” The words came out before Caleb could say anything. Caleb looked confused.

“I’m sorry?”

“You were employed by Sam. I’m not going to be paying you, and I can’t waste any more of his money on you. You can leave tomorrow if you want, but tonight would be better.”

Caleb went from confused to upset.

“Ben, you don’t mean that.”

“No, I do.” No, he didn’t, but he said it anyway. Caleb pulled Ben closer and brought his voice to a whisper.

“If this is about you wanting a hit, or something, then fine. Have it if you want to have it, but don’t throw me out if that’s what this is about.”

“If I can have a hit, then I guess I don’t need you. Better luck with your next patient, Caleb,” Ben said with a kick in his voice. Why did everyone always jump to drugs with him? Why couldn’t someone, anyone, just once think that it might have to do with anything but drugs? Why couldn’t Caleb understand why he was upset without him having to say it?

“Please don’t do this,” Caleb said in a pleading sort of way, his hand having been pushed away from Ben’s arm. “Just let me stay with you, just for a little while longer until you’ve had time to get better.”

“You don’t get better,” Ben interrupted. “Everyone always says that. They say ‘it takes time, but you get better. You heal with time.’ It’s a lie. It never gets better. But one day you have to wake up and pretend it doesn’t hurt anymore because that’s what everyone expects. No. No amount of time is going to make this better. I’ve done this before, remember?”

Caleb didn’t follow Ben this time when he walked off.

When Ben got home, after two bus rides and a long walk, he found all of Caleb’s things were gone. He hadn’t slept alone since Nathan died. But Nathan was dead and Sam was dead and Caleb was gone. For the first time, he was completely alone.


	7. Chapter 7

The first day Caleb was gone Ben took a sticky note and wrote ‘I miss you’ on it. He wasn’t sure who exactly he was referring to, since he had a fair amount to miss, but that’s what he wrote. He stuck it on the kitchen table and went back to sleep on the couch.

The next day he wrote another note that said ‘I’m sorry’ and stuck it beside the other one on the table. Then he wrote one that read ‘Maybe it was for the best’.

By the end of the week the table had 49 notes stuck to it. Some he wrote with Sam in mind, others for Nathan, a few for his mother, but a lot for Caleb. He just couldn’t stop writing them. He wrote “I love you” 8 times and “Come home” 7 times. Those ones he wrote for everyone. The table was rapidly running out of room for anyone to sit at but the way Ben saw it, it didn’t really matter how much space there was. He wasn’t going to eat at it, and there was no one left to join him.

Ben wished he’d sat at it more. He wished he had taken his brother up on every offer to have a meal together. He wasted so much time on that couch when he could have been spending it with Sam. He _should_ have been spending it with Sam. He had spent quite a deal of time there with Caleb though, but he tried not to think about that. He missed Caleb just as much as he missed Sam but every time he pulled out his phone to call him and tell him that he wanted him to come back he stopped and reminded himself why he had left in the first place. Caleb had probably moved on anyway; he could do better, and Ben was sure both of them knew it.

At some point Ben ran out of laundry to wear and made an effort to go wash his clothes in the community laundry room downstairs. But as he emptied his clothes into the washer he heard a small ting of metal hitting the base. When Ben pulled out the clothes to check what it was he found a small crushed penny with a triceratops named Cliff on it. He promised himself, once upon a time, that it would never leave his pocket.

Standing there, alone in the laundry room, Ben finally broke down in tears. It was like he couldn’t breathe all of a sudden as the weight of just how alone he was crushed down on him. This was worse than before. When his mother died, he’d had Sam; When Nate died, he’d had Sam. Now Sam was dead and Ben kept thinking that someone was coming to pull him out of this, but that person he kept waiting for was dead and buried. But there was Caleb. One of the sticky-notes on the table, in the smallest print possible, read ‘I just wanted to get to say good-bye to one of you.’ Every so often Ben would wonder if maybe the problem was him.

“Are you a’right, man?” Someone else had entered the laundry room. Ben looked up and saw a seedy looking man, maybe in his early 20’s, standing in the doorway, watching Ben. His teeth were yellow and his skin seemed exceptionally bad for someone his age and Ben knew exactly what he was looking at.

“Do you sell drugs?” The kid looked almost scared for a moment, but must have realized that an undercover cop was not going to be found crying in a laundry room clutching a crushed penny.

“No.” He said, honestly. “But if you want some I know somebody who does!”

“What do they sell?”

“What are you looking for?”

“Anything.”

“Then he’s your guy.” Ben found a pen in the room and jotted down contact information on his hand. It was a difficult task in and of itself, given that Ben was shaking so hard. Being clean hadn’t gotten him anything being high hadn’t, in fact he was beginning to find he was worse off for getting clean, and that mistake had to be rectified.

“Thanks,” Ben mumbled as he pocketed the penny and shoved his laundry back into the washer.

Ben kept writing sticky-notes while he debated buying something from this contact. He was up to 64 notes. He had just written ‘Come home’ for the 16th time when his body suddenly stood up and walked him out the door, down the stairs and into the street. Sam was not coming home. Ben had promised he would be clean for Sam when he got home, but Sam wasn’t coming home and he didn’t owe anyone anything anymore and he had earned this.

Ben was in and out with enough heroin for three doses in a matter of minutes. The man he bought it from, a John Simcoe, was particularly unreasonable with his prices but Ben didn’t care too much. He paid more than it was worth and found himself in the now sunset filled streets of Boston. It wasn’t hard to come by all the other supplies he would need for this hit, but the more Ben bought, the realer it all felt and he started to get scared. It had been a long time since he’d had any drugs in his pockets. He had been doing so well. What would Caleb think?

Somehow, through his tremors and his fears Ben managed to get back home. He thought about setting up everything by the couch so he could lie down, but he decided instead to sit at the table, surrounded by his notes. As Ben got ready he was shocked at how easy it was to remember how to do all of this, the muscle memory from the past all rushing back.

Somewhere between buying the drugs and sitting down at the table Ben knew he didn’t want to do this. For the first time ever Ben didn’t want to do any drugs, but he was going to force himself to do it anyway. He wanted to feel better and this was going to help. That’s what he kept telling himself, fighting his conscious every step of the way. This _was_ going to make his feel better. So, when everything was ready he pressed the needle to his arm and… stopped. It was then, when he looked away for a second that he noticed his sticky-notes were wrong. He was certain he had only written 64 but there seemed 65 on the table. With a belt still wrapped around his right arm and a needle in his left hand Ben stood up and peered across the table at the new sticky-note.

‘I love you more.’

Caleb had been here.

Caleb had been in his apartment while he was out buying heroin. Caleb had seen his sticky-notes. Caleb had been here and Ben had missed him and he couldn’t have been angrier with himself. Without thinking Ben pulled the belt off his arm and dropped the needle then ran out the door to see if maybe Caleb was close enough by for him to catch up with. Ben hadn’t called, or attempted to make any contact with Caleb at all, but nothing had ever made more sense to him than to run out that door and find the last person on earth alive that he loved and fix all of his mistakes. He didn’t want drugs. He didn’t want to get high. He wanted Caleb and he would be damned if he didn’t get him.

When he got outside the front door he scanned the streets. There were three potential streets Caleb could have gone down. Ben had to think. Which way would Caleb go? Ben thought he was going to have to guess, but he suddenly remembered that neither Sam nor Ben owned a car so they didn’t have a reserved spot in the parking space and Caleb had had to get one when he moved in but it would have expired when Ben threw him out so he would have to park in the lot up the street to his right!

Ben went flying down the street to get to the parking lot. There was a very likely chance that Caleb was long gone, that he had stopped by right after Ben had left and was far away. If that was the case then Ben could try and call, but he’d have to go back to his room and he couldn’t stand to spend one more evening in that house alone. No, Caleb had to be close enough to catch.

The parking lot was a towering building of ugly gray but it could have been a junkyard as far as Ben was concerned so long as Caleb was still there. For once, just once Ben needed something to go the way he wanted it to go. Ben ran a lap around the first level of the complex then took off to the second floor. Then a miracle happened.

As he reached the second floor, Ben saw the back of a man with the most unkempt hair he had ever seen headed towards a car Ben had driven in enough to recognize. Caleb was just about to reach his car when Ben shouted from across the garage:

“Wait!” Caleb turned around with a snap. He looked confused and then surprised as Ben raced forward, finally catching up to him. Caleb looked awful, but then so did Ben and he couldn’t care less about the matter.

“Ben, what are you-”

“You dropped a penny,” Ben said as he held out the souvenir from the Museum of Science. There was a beat of time where neither of the spoke while Caleb reached out to see what Ben was holding in front of him. As he looked it over recognition passed through his features and a small smile broke onto his face.

“I’m sorry, Caleb. I’m sorry. I got scared. I keep losing people and just once I wanted to get a say in whether someone got to leave or not. Everyone’s gone, Caleb. You’re all I have left and that’s terrifying and I am so worried that something is going to happen to you because something always happens and I can’t help feeling like that’s my fault even if it isn’t. But I miss you, and I’m sorry, and if you’ll let me I’d like to make it up to you.” Ben was out of breath from running so his words were a mess of gasps and coughs as he struggled with his words.

“Slow down, give it a minute,” Caleb said, placing his hand gently on Ben’s back as he bent down to rest his hands on his knees. The touch was tentative, like Caleb wasn’t sure how it was going to be reciprocated.

“We don’t have to go back to the way things were,” Ben said softly. “But I just want to be with you, however you’re comfortable. We could just talk on the phone if you wanted, we could write letters if that’s what it takes, I really don’t care, and I know I don’t have any right to ask this of you, but-”

Caleb did not cut him off with a kiss, but merely wrapped Ben up into his arms. Ben recalled the list he had made of places where he felt safe. He remembered why Caleb’s arms were on it. Everything felt warm.

“Do you want to go home?” Caleb was always better with words than Ben. Yes, he did want to go home. He nodded gently against Caleb’s jacket before Caleb pulled away, his hand crawling down Ben’s side until it reached his hand. They walked home like that, hand in hand, until they reached the apartment. Along the way Ben told Caleb what he’d done and Caleb responded in the most perfect way of all; he simply listened. He understood why Ben had done it, even if he didn’t agree, but he was proud of Ben for stopping himself, and he was gladder still that he had been the reason. They cleaned up the mess when they got home in silence and Caleb took the waste somewhere far away. Ben wasn’t sure where, but he didn’t care.

Then, very carefully, Caleb and Ben peeled up the sticky notes from the table. They read each one as they pulled it up, whether it was a repeated phrase or not. It felt nice to hear his own words out loud. It felt nice to hear them from someone else as well. As the pulled them up they placed each one inside a small box Caleb had found.

“I think this is good for you. When people get told to write their feelings down they tend to get bogged down by this idea of keeping a journal, like they have to write a specific amount, but this is perfectly fine too. It’s just about letting go,” Caleb had said when he’d brought the box. They were just sticky-notes, but Ben was glad to be keeping them. They felt important, even if they didn’t say anything of true value. Caleb’s sticky note was put on top, per Ben’s insistence.

At last, the world started to piece itself back together. Ben started applying for jobs and Caleb resumed his role as a drug and alcohol counsellor at the hospital. On one particularly bright Saturday, Ben received a call that he was being offered a teachers position at Cathedral High School.

“Do you want to go tell Sammy?” Caleb asked once they had celebrated a little on their own.

“Yes,” was the simple reply. The two of them drove to the cemetery in higher spirits then either of them had been in for an exceptionally long time. Caleb had brought a lunch with them and they planted themselves down at the grave that read Samuel Tallmadge. They ate, and talked, and smiled the way people do when they feel nothing is wrong in the world.

“I love you,” Ben said, when they had finished eating and were lying on the grass, looking up to the sky.

“I love you more. He loves you, too,” Caleb said, nodding to the grave.

“Do you think he’s listening?”

“They’re all listening, Benny; Nathan, Sam, your mother. I hope you know how proud they are of you.”

“I think I do. Is it wrong to say I can’t wait to see them again?”

“No. I’ve got people waiting for me, too, you know. But don’t go too fast to join ‘em. They’d want you to use that time of yours wisely.”

“I can try,” he said. “All the time they should have had is the time I got instead. Now I just have to wonder for the rest of my life if I’m spending it correctly.”

“You are. You will. I’ll make sure of it,” Caleb said as he began to stand. “So, what should we do now?”

“We,” Ben said in a pleasant way as he too shuffled up from the grass.

“We,” Caleb agreed with a smile.

Ben’s fingertips skimmed the side of the grave as he said his farewells, then his hand found Caleb’s as they began to walk away.

“Let’s go to the Public Garden,” he said as the two of them reached the car. It occurred to him that Sam and he were supposed to have gone all those months ago. What would have happened, he wondered, if they had just left that day? Things might have been different, Ben supposed. Or they might have been exactly the same. Maybe there isn’t any point in wasting time wondering what might have been when there’s nothing that can be done anymore.

So Ben stopped thinking about all the things he might have changed and got into the car with Caleb. The future was worrisome, and so dependent on the past, but it had a ‘we’ in it, and for now, for Ben, that could be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My my, here we are at the end. Sad, isn't it, but that's how it goes. Thank you so much for reading all of this. I'm so glad I got to share this story, but I am so grateful that I got to share it with all of you. May we meet again!


End file.
